Second Chances Reality: The Snake and the Lioness
by BlueRowley
Summary: Draco and Hermione are always arguing with each other about something. That was nothing new to Harry. However, Harry realizes that these friendly arguments might be the beginnings of something more between the two and he encourages Draco to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball. Will Draco find the courage to ask? A short in the Second Chances Reality series.
1. Who to Take to the Yule Ball?

So, this is a short with potentially more chapters exploring the relationship between Draco and Hermione. It's really just an idea that struck me with how the two behave in my series. Tell me what you think about these two as a pair. What you suggest may influence exactly what direction this quick short story goes in.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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"Draco, catch!" Harry shouted as he tossed the quaffle to Draco, who was closest to a goal hoop. Draco caught the quaffle and through it through the hoop.

"Ten points!" Draco shouted. He flew his broom towards Harry, who had shot forward to catch the quaffle before it hit the ground. Once he was next to Harry, they flew side by side back towards the stands where Hermione was. "As much as I love scoring points with the quaffle, shouldn't we be practicing searching for the snitch? We are the seekers, you know."

Harry shivered slightly as the cold November wind blew around them. He paused to tighten his cloak before chasing after Draco, quickly catching up to him.

"Yes, I know," Harry answered, "but I don't need to practice that. Finding the snitch comes naturally for me. You can practice with it, if you want, though."

Harry sped up, forcing Draco to speed his own broom up, now trying to catch up to Harry.

"Liar!" Draco accused. "You just freestyle everything you do. Besides, you finding the snitch is pure luck."

"Maybe. But let me tell you, the snitch does seem to like me."

"Haha. That, or you enchant it."

"You think I cheat?"

"I don't know what you do to find that snitch. But I wouldn't put it past you."

"I don't cheat! I'm telling you – the snitch likes me. We can even ask Hermione. Hermione!" Harry yelled as he and Draco flew directly in front of her, hovering near her. She was seated on the first level of the stands, not bothering to look up from the large book she was reading. She held up a finger to the boys as she read a final paragraph before brushing back a strand of hair as she looked up.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," Draco sneered, "are we interrupting your reading? What are you reading anyway?"

"Our book for Arithmancy," Hermione picked up the book to show Draco the cover. "Remember? _Understanding the Most Powerful Magical Number_? We have a quiz on this next week."

"Right," Draco glared at the book.

Harry was glad his father hadn't forced him to take Arithmancy. Severus had suggested it over Divination, but after a brief argument on what classes Harry wanted to take, they both settled on Study of Ancient Runes – Harry finding it to be a level down from Arithmancy and Severus finding it challenging enough for his son. Harry was sure his father would attempt to talk him into taking Arithmancy in later years, but for now, they were both satisfied.

"Isn't that number seven?" Harry said, frowning as he remembered briefly going over the topic last year in Study of Ancient Runes. The professor had stated that they would learn more about it this upcoming year. "What's so special about it anyway?"

"Oh, it's a very interesting theory," Hermione nodded her head. "I haven't read too far into it yet, but don't you just find it interesting that we have a seven-day system based on the ancient astrological notion about the seven celestial bodies: the sun, the moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn? And isn't odd that we have Seven Wonders of the World, seven virtues, seven deadly sins, seven chakras, and seven sacred sciences? We even have seven years of schooling at Hogwarts! I mean this cannot be coincidental - Bridget Wenlock's ground-breaking theorem on the magical properties of the number seven –"

"Are you going to recite the entire book, Hermione?" Draco frowned.

"I was just answering his question!"

"Well, I'm sure a one sentence answer would have sufficed for him. He doesn't need a lecture right now."

"He was curious, and I thought going into a good amount of detail might satisfy his curiosity. Some people like thorough answers, Draco."

"He's taking Study of Ancient Runes, I'm sure he'll find all this out soon enough."

"Hey," Harry interrupted, waving his hands, ""He" is sitting right here. Can I join the conversation?"

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione gave him a guilty smile before glaring at Draco. "Some people don't appreciate learning their history."

"I never said I don't appreciate it!" Draco snapped. "I'll learn it on my own time."

"Have you even opened the book yet?"

"I'll get to it. I was going to do the reading tonight. It's only two chapters."

"Three. It's three chapters. And we have a fifty-question quiz on the reading material. All short answer."

"Easy. I'll get it done."

"Whatever," Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at Harry, "anyway, I really think you should take Arithmancy, Harry. You'd be good at it. You did really well in Study of Ancient Runes last year."

"I only passed with an E," Harry reminded. "It's not like it was an O or anything."

"An E is a really good grade. It shows that you understood enough of the material to score highly, indicating you could do the same in a more advanced class."

"Sheesh, don't start sounding like my dad now. I'm happy with what I'm taking. Can't we leave it at that?"

"Suit yourself," Hermione said, opening her book back up. "What were you originally going to ask me?"

"Err . . ." Harry frowned in thought. What had this all originally been about? They had gotten a bit sidetracked with the whole "number seven" lecture, he had forgotten what they were doing before it. Harry looked at Draco for help.

"I think," Draco frowned, "that it may have had something to do with the snitch . . . oh well, it doesn't matter. It's not that important. I plan on wiping the field with your blood, Harry! You can kiss that Quidditch Cup goodbye!"

"In your dreams!" Harry exclaimed. "I've beaten Slytherin more times than I can count!"

"You can't count that high? That really is sad, Harry. And you've only won because you seem to like falling on the snitch a lot. Some strategy. If you played the game the right way, you could give other Seekers a decent chance at winning, too."

"Nah, I'll keep the fame and glory."

"It's all going to your head! Get off your high horse! Or in this case, your high broom!"

Draco flew at Harry, grabbing the broomstick and yanking it out from under Harry, who fell the last foot to the grass below. He grunted as his face smacked the earth. "Low blow, Draco," Harry groaned. "Low blow."

Draco smirked down at his cousin. Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"I don't understand you boys," she told them. Then, her eyes focused on something past Harry and Draco. Both boys followed her gaze, Draco lowering and jumping off his broom.

Viktor Krum, a tall, brown eyed, brown haired eighteen-year-old, was flying on a broomstick over the field now, looking completely as if he belonged there. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Viktor hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. He paused and smiled at the trio – his eyes specifically zeroing in on Hermione. He waved to them.

Hermione offered a smile in return, Harry gave an awkward wave back, and Draco glared. The man flew off, enjoying the wind.

"He's a showoff," Draco decided, handing Harry his broom. Hermione frowned at him.

"He's not. He's just more experienced than both of you."

"It's only because he's older. He's still a showoff."

"Oh, will you grow up, Draco!"

"I bet you like him!"

"Oh please, he's here for the Tournament and you know it. Even if he is attractive, he hasn't even worked up the courage to talk to me. Just sits in the back of the library and acts like he isn't staring at me."

Harry noticed Draco's glare at Viktor darken. Before he could comment, Viktor landed right in front of them.

"Hey Snape," he greeted, "cool fox."

Harry blinked and looked down in time to see Sam's mist solidify at Viktor's side, smiling slyly up at him as his fox-sized self, his three tails giving a brief wag. Harry frowned, wondering what Sam was doing with the man.

"Err, thanks."

"Ve vere talking about Sam's tooth he vears all the time," Viktor said. "I find its unique capabilities very interesting. And he finds my school very fascinating. Ve should talk again soon."

 _: Of course, I look forward to it._

"Hello, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor greeted.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly as she covered her face with a hand. Draco snorted and Harry bit back a laugh himself. Viktor didn't seem to understand the problem with what he said, just nodded goodbye and flew off on his broom once more.

"What were you doing with him?" Harry asked Sam.

 _: Am I not allowed to socialize with the newcomers? We were just talking. He seemed lonely earlier, even with all the girls stalking him. I wish I had ladies at my tails as he does._

"I'm sure," Harry made a face at that. "What do you think of Viktor?"

 _: He's not bad, really. A good gentleman._

"See?" Hermione said, picking up her book and standing up. "He's not bad. You two can't just judge someone so quickly."

"Just because Sam said he's not bad," Draco argued, "doesn't make him student of the year. Besides, he can't even say your name right."

"Well at least he's trying! If I remember correctly, it took you almost two years to stop calling me Granger."

"Well . . . I . . . so?"

Hermione rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time before saying, "I'm going to see if Ron had caught up on that make-up work he owed. Maybe he'll appreciate my "lectures."" With that, Hermione walked off.

"I swear," Harry shook his head at Draco, "you argue more with Hermione than Ron does."

"So? She's rather moody lately."

 _: If I didn't know any better,_ Sam smiled, tilting his head, his ears flicking, _I'd say you actually like her. And I mean like._

Harry's eyes widened as he gaped at Draco, who's pale face turned as red as Ron's hair.

"W-what!?" Draco spluttered. "I-I-I do not! She's an insufferable know-it-all and . . . she's annoying and she's . . . I don't like her, Sam! She's just a friend."

 _: Sure,_ Sam smirked.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, a smile slowly growing on his face. "I won't say anything to her if you do."

"No! I don't!"

"I mean, you two are a lot alike – you're both really smart, good at reasoning and logic, you both like to argue . . ."

"Cut it out!"

"I think you'd make a good couple."

"Harry!"

"Draco and Hermione sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-"

Draco pushed Harry and jumped on top of him, shoving his face down into the dirt. Harry pushed Draco off and pinned the boy down – rubbing his face in the dirt before standing and making a run for the broom shed to put his broom away. Draco stood and chased after Harry. Sam followed at a slower pace, smirking as he watched the boys wrestle in the shed before Harry managed to escape and run for the school, still laughing joyfully while Draco seemed angrier. Once back at the school, they walked slowly down the hall, knowing they'd have to part ways to go to their separate dorms.

"But really, Draco," Harry grew a more serious tone. "Maybe you should ask Hermione to the Yule Ball. That's happening this year."

"Ask Hermione?" Draco's face reddened again. "And embarrass myself? No, I don't think so. I'll ask . . . Pansy or . . . someone."

"Come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"She'll say no."

"So, you do like her?"

Draco blinked and then frowned at Harry.

"So, what if I do? Big deal. It's just a . . . phase, I'm sure."

"Right. Well, if I were you, I'd ask her soon. With Viktor eyeing her, you'll have to ask her first."

"Well, what about Ron? Doesn't he like Hermione? Maybe he'll ask her."

"Ron? He hasn't really shown any interest in asking anyone," Harry frowned. "Or in her. I don't know. She'll pick who she picks."

"What if she doesn't even like me back? I mean . . . that way? This could completely ruin the friendship we all have. If I ask her or even tell her, and she lets me down – it'll be so . . . awkward."

"Hermione's not like that. She'll still want to be friends. She needs someone to argue with when Ron's not around. You'll never know anything if you don't try."

"Well, who are you going with?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

"What about that Ginny girl? She seems to like you."

"Yeah, but she's Ron's little sister . . ."

"And? If I ask Hermione – that's an if! – you have to ask Ginny Weasley. Seems only fair to me."

"Fine. But you have to ask Hermione! I'm not doing anything until you do."

"Then how do I know you'll do it?"

"I'll do it. Trust me – Sam can be a witness."

: _Why do you have to drag me into your teenage dilemmas?_

Harry glared down at the fox, whose ears were laying flat on his head in distaste at being included in such drama, but Draco snorted.

"Fine. I'll . . . give it a try."

"Great! Well, I have to go this way for Gryffindor Tower. See you at dinner. And don't forgot to ask her!"

Draco watched Harry leave with Sam at his heels. What the hell had he signed up for? Was he really going to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball? His wiped his sweaty hands on his robe as he descended the stairs to go to the Slytherin common room. He was insane. This was surely just a phase. He wouldn't have these feeling in a couple months or so. He'll fall for someone else – someone Slytherin of course.

It just didn't feel right – to like someone he actually saw as a good, true friend. He had so few of those; he really didn't want to risk losing one.

Could he really ask Hermione without losing his cool?

His breathing was picking up just at the though of it.

He was not looking forward to that conversation with her. Perhaps Uncle Severus could offer some tips. He could use some advice right now - and from some one older and more experienced - not his annoying, meddling cousin.

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Well, that's all for this first part. Share your thoughts: whether you like this pairing or not, and who you think should go with who at the Yule Ball. Your opinions may influence what happens in this story.


	2. Harder Than You Think

Here's the next part to this short! Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!

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"How did you ask Aunt Lily to the ball?" Draco asked curiously, sitting in his uncle's quarters with a cup of tea resting in his lap.

"We didn't have a Yule Ball," Severus answered honestly, entering the living room from the kitchen. "We also didn't have the Triwizard Tournament. However, there is a special dance held for seventh years. I asked your Aunt Lily to that dance. However, we had been dating since sixth year, so it wasn't exactly a challenge or anything for me."

"You weren't even a bit nervous?"

"Alright," Severus smirked as he sat down on a chair across from the couch where Draco sat. "I'll admit I was a bit nervous. But more so about how I would ask her than her saying no. I wanted to do something romantic and special, but everything I thought of I never had the courage to pull off. In the end, I simply brought her flowers, stopped her in the hallway, and just threw out the question. She was happy with it."

"Did she ever tell you that she expected more?"

"No. In fact, she was concerned I would embarrass her with some kind of weird potion of sorts in my proposal to the dance. She was not far off – I did consider using a potion that emitted smoke in the shape of words to ask her, "Will you go to the dance with me?" I, personally, thought the idea was brilliant."

"Of course, you did, Uncle Severus," Draco smiled. "So, are you suggesting I should just ask Hermione to the dance then? Nothing special?"

"I think that would be the best approach," Severus said. "I'm sure you'll be as nervous as can be, sweaty palms and all, but you'll pull it off."

"I'll need a lot of Slytherin ambition and cunning for this."

"Don't limit yourself so. You'll need a lot more than Slytherin values to ask one of your closest friends to the dance. You'll need some Gryffindor bravery."

Draco made a face and said, "Gryffindor? There's nothing Gryffindor about me."

"We could all belong to every house, Draco. There's more to us than just a house's label. Trust me when I say, for you, it's going to take a good amount of nerve to ask your friend, who thus far has just been that, to the dance. I wish you luck on that."

After exchanging goodnights, Draco left his uncle's quarters and headed back to his common room. Tomorrow, he would ask Hermione to the dance. He was just going to do it. It would be easy: "Hermione, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" See? Nothing to it. He could do this. Nothing was going to get in his way – not his nerves, not his friends, not even Viktor Krum.

The next evening, at dinner, Draco took a deep breath and walked over to the Gryffindor table. It was nothing unusual – he had slowly been growing apart from his "friends" in Slytherin (he hung out with a select chosen few now and then) and would spend more time with the trio of Gryffindors – despite the trouble they seemed to rope him into. He had started sitting at their table back in second year and though it had caused a ruckus then, it was now a common trend in the entire school. Students from different houses mingles all the time now, only sitting in their respective places for start-of-term, end-of-term, and holiday feasts.

"Hey guys," Draco greeted, sitting down next to Harry, who was across from Ron and Hermione.

"Hi, Draco," Harry, Ron, and Hermione said.

"So," Draco choked slightly. He grabbed a goblet and chugged down the pumpkin juice inside to help clear his throat. "Err, what are you guys eating?"

Everyone blinked at him before Harry looked down at his own plate and said, "Same thing you are. Unless the tables have started getting different meals."

"Bad question, I know," Draco said, tugging at his collar. When did it get so warm in the castle? Usually, in autumn, it would get pretty cold. Perhaps the professors had used one too many heating charms. Draco took a bite of his dinner, trying to think of something to say. "Well, err – where's Sam?"

"Around here somewhere," Harry answered, glancing around the hall. "He doesn't ever miss dinner if he can help it. Besides, with all the new company here, he's probably off getting to know people. He seems to like learning about other countries and their traditions. Boring stuff if you ask me."

"It might be boring," Hermione cut in, "but gaining insight on other cultures all around the world is an important step toward developing cultural sensitivity and awareness. It is the foundation of communication and it involves the ability of standing back from ourselves and becoming aware . . ."

Draco's ears tuned Hermione out as he struggles with the words in his head. Why did there have to be so many people in the Great Hall? Even more than usual! All these people just added to the pressure. What if someone overheard them? And what if Hermione declined? How embarrassing that would be – forget that everyone was watching.

"Draco!" A hand smacked the back of his head, making him wince.

"Hey!" Draco glared at Harry.

"We've asked you the same question twice now," Harry said, frowning back but also looking concerned. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

Draco noticed Ron and Hermione staring at him oddly as well.

"I'm . . . I'm fine. I was just . . . thinking."

"About what?" Hermione asked, her frown deepening.

"Actually," Draco began, willing his heart to slow down. Sheesh, the professors should have taken it easy on those warming spells in the Great Hall, Draco thought as he tugged at his collar again. That, or his shirt was shrinking due to some jinx some student hit him with without him knowing. There's those sweaty palms Uncle Severus was talking about. Draco swallowed. "I was wondering if maybe you – I don't know – if you'd, maybe, you'd like to – if you'd . . . oh, look at that! I'm out of meatloaf! I should go back to my table and get some more!"

"But Draco, there's plenty here . . ."

Draco didn't hear the rest of what Ron had to say as he bolted out of his seat and ran with his plate back to his own table. He took in several deep breaths, trying to calm his entire body.

"Draco?" Pansy spoke up a few seats away from him. "What's wrong? You look a bit green."

"I'm fine!" Draco snapped.

"Just making sure," Pansy said, giving Draco one last concerned look before turning back to her friends.

Draco finally caught his breath, but just as soon, his entire face burned beet red. He had just made a fool of himself trying to ask Hermione to the dance. What was so hard about it? He didn't have any problems talking to girls! None! At least not when talking about normal things like classes and homework. What was so different about talking to her to ask her to the dance. Why was he struggling so?

Maybe he didn't know how to talk to girls? Not . . . in any flattering way, at least. Perhaps that was it – he didn't want to ask out of obligation – but because he wanted to go with Hermione as friends. Perhaps as more than just friends. But how to express that to her? How to do it without her becoming repulsed and never talking to him again?

Draco dropped his head against his arms, hiding his face. This was so frustrating!

"I don't think I've ever been to Portugal," Draco heard a familiar voice.

His head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on Sam, in human form, wearing a blue robe that was probably his Uncle Severus's and a black fedora accented with a blue band that matched the color of the robe. Sam was in the back of the Great Hall among the many other tables added for the newcomers talking to one of the new arrivals – a middle-aged professor – a rather attractive woman at that. Of course.

"Oh, I love my home there. I live in Guarda, and the air you breathe – oh, you could get high off how fresh the air is compared to anywhere else I've been."

"I don't think I'd mind that," Sam smirked.

"What I really love is the beautiful, natural scenery you'll find there. I could spend hours exploring Serra da Estrela and just marveling at even the smallest blade of grass. I guess that's my flaw, being a herbologist and all. I'm such a sucker for the greenery."

"There's nothing wrong with loving what Earth naturally provides. I, personally, love plants – flowers, particularly. I actually have a garden back in Japan, small really, but . . . my sister is taking care of it for me presently."

"I bet it's lovely. I hear so many wonderful things about Japan. I'm sure the plants must be exotic."

"Well, I hate to brag . . ."

Sure you do, Draco thought, standing up from his seat and slowly moving towards Sam and the lady. An idea was slowly coming to his mind as he watched Sam interact with the witch. The charisma – the confidence – the courtesy! Here was his answer!

"In fact," Sam was still talking, "here's a special one blooming at this very minute. Kosumosu, they call it." Sam reached into a sleeve and pulled out a beautiful, purple flower, with a darker ring around a vibrant yellow middle. Draco figured Uncle Severus must have charmed a preserver on it for Sam. The lady gasped excitedly as she accepted the flower.

"It's beautiful and my favorite color!"

"How completely coincidental!"

"What did you say you called it?"

"Kosumosu."

"I love your accent! Could you . . . say it again?"

Draco rolled his eyes as Sam happily obliged. In his opinion, Sam spoke in a rather monotone way. What was so cool about that? British accents were so much better. Yes, he'd admit that when Sam spoke straight Japanese, it was cool to listen to, but he was sure that was because he had no idea what the fox was saying. But that didn't mean he wanted to hear Sam say the name of a flower over and over again as the two leaned closer together.

"Hey, Sam!" Draco greeted happily, breaking the two apart rather quickly. The lady seemed to blush slightly while Sam outright glared. Draco fought a smirk as he asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm kind of busy, Draco. What did you need?" Draco realized Sam's teeth were illusioned to look normal, but the foxy yellow eyes remained, and he knew what lay hidden under the hat.

"Draco?" the lady smiled. "That's a unique name."

"Thanks ma'am. Sam's name is pretty unique, too. For a fox." Draco sent Sam a wide grin.

The woman frowned, a bit bewildered by the odd statement. Sam's glare darkened.

"Well, I guess he is a bit of a fox, isn't he?" the lady smiled. "The sly fox." Sam smiled at her briefly before glaring at Draco more.

"He didn't tell you, did he?" Draco casually rested an arm on Sam's shoulder, glad to be just a few inches shorter than Sam to do this. He reached up and snatched the fedora off Sam's head, revealing the fox ears. The lady gasped, her eyes widening as she took a step back. "See, a fox in disguise. He's usually about this tall." Draco held out a hand near the ground.

The lady blinked before laughing. "This is a joke? Right? That is some kind of metamorphic ability, you could have just told me you were a Metamorphmagus. You don't need to hide those adorable ears if that's how you like to keep them."

"No, he's a literate fox. A kitsune!" Draco spelled out. "I mean look at his eyes! They're yellow! And let's see if we can bring out those teeth. Come on, foxy, bring them out - like a good doggy . . ."

Just as predicted, the word "doggy" had the desired effect and Sam whipped his head toward Draco and snarled in a foxish manner, the illusion collapsing to reveal sharp fox teeth – especially, long canines. Draco smirked at the enraged fox as he heard the lady bite back a scream. Such short temper when the fox doesn't get his way, Draco thought snidely.

"I-I-I – I had no idea, I . . . you're not a human? You're a – I . . ." the lady kept backing away, her face turning even more red as she quickly swept away into the crowd around the tables.

"You're welcome," Draco smiled, patting Sam's shoulder.

Sam shoved Draco away from him and snatched the fedora, setting it back on his head.

"Can I help you with something?"

"You know, you shouldn't really be going after witches. Why don't you go looking for a female kitsune or something?"

"My chances of finding a vixen here are as likely as your Uncle letting me use you as a kendo practice dummy," Sam snapped.

"Look, I'm sorry I blew your chances with Miss Scaredy Cat, but I need your help. Your good with talking to girls. Could you give me some pointers? Teach me how you do it?"

"You want me to give you pointers on how to woo a girl?" Sam rose his eyebrows questioningly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Eww, don't say it like that. Just how to talk to one. Or, at least, how to ask her to a dance?"

"Is this about Hermione? I thought you were going to talk to Severus about this."

"I did. And he helped . . . a little. But you – you're like a playboy professional!"

Sam frowned, "Should I take offense to that?"

"No, no, of course not. I just mean, every time you talk to a girl you like, you end up making out with her. Wait, do you know how wrong that is?"

"I'm not allowed any flings with willing participants?" Sam smirked.

Draco felt his face flush and he hid behind his hands. He mumbled, "I'm going to forget you even said that."

"Oh relax, I haven't pushed any relationships that far. And for your information, I'm not going to teach you anything. You don't need my advice."

Once Draco was sure his face was back to normal, he looked up at Sam with disbelief. "What do you mean I don't need your advice!? Of course, I do – you're a natural at this! I mean, you can talk to women like you do it everyday or something!"

"That's because I do," Sam said. "Women are not a different species, you know. You and I both see and interact with them every day."

"Well . . . yeah, but this is different." Draco would never admit to the pout that grew on his face as he realized Sam had no intention of helping him. What was he going to do now? This was his last shot at getting real advice and tips.

"Not really. You want my advice?" Sam rested a hand on Draco's shoulder, giving an encouraging squeeze. "Just be yourself. You'll be amazed at how much easier this will come to you when you're not trying to come up with some fancy way to get her attention."

"But what if she says no? It'll be so awkward – I could never be in the same room as her."

"Trust me," Sam said, adjusting the fedora on his head. "Hermione would never allow that from you. She's a good friend. Even if she says no, she'll still be that."

Draco offered a smile back at the fox, feeling slightly better. At that same moment, a lady in a silver, dressy gown walked past, smiling confidently at Sam as she greeted him with a "Bonjour." Draco nearly rolled his eyes as Sam watched the lady pass them.

"Now," Sam said, fixing the cuffs on his robe, "if you don't mind, I need to brush up on my French. Oh, and stay out of this." Sam quickly left Draco, following after the beautiful woman.

Draco shook his head before going back to Slytherin table to finish eating. Everyone else had already started on dessert, but Draco continued to pick at his dinner, his stomach in tight knots as he thought about the best way to approach Hermione again. Maybe he could try it tomorrow, after classes and all. Maybe right after potions. Or perhaps somewhere a bit more private so he didn't have to feel like a thousand eyes were watching him. His mind thought over what Sam had said. Be himself? But how could he be himself at a time like this? What did "being himself" even entail? How on earth did he not know "himself?" Groaning, Draco dropped his head on his arms, ignoring the rest of his food.

This was proving to be a lot harder than he thought. He hoped Harry was having as much difficulty just so it would make him feel a bit better. This was the worst evening of his life!

* * *

Well, what do you think? Poor Draco - the struggle is real! I hope you all liked it!


	3. Finding the Courage

I hope you like this next part to this short! Sorry for such a long wait!

* * *

Draco breathed out slowly as he adjusted his tie and brushed off his silky, silver and green robe. He was just going to do it. Be himself – like everyone encouraged. And that was something he could do. No hesitations, no excuses, no nothing. He was going to walk right up to Hermione and throw the question out. How hard could it really be – it wasn't like he was proposing to her or anything. He was simply asking her to the dance. That was it. Like asking for the answer to a homework assignment. Piece of cake.

"Orchideous!" Draco said, and a bunch of flowers burst from the tip of his wand. He picked up a thin string of red ribbon and tied it around the stems of the flowers, using his wand to create a fancy bow out of the hanging strings.

Glancing into the tall mirror in front of him, Draco peered closer and smoothed down his hair.

"There," he said, admiring himself. "Now to find Hermione. She's just like any other girl I talk to. Anyone else at all. This will be easy." Draco stood tall and held the flowers out, "Hermione, I would like to ask you to the Yule Ball. Please accept these flowers as my gratitude for accompanying me. Ha! Too easy. I can do this."

Draco gave himself one last confident smile before leaving his dorm and the Slytherin common room. If he had Hermione's schedule memorized correctly, she should be studying in the library now. And he only knew that because he had studied with her before – not because he was a stalker or anything. Draco shook the thoughts away. He had to stay focused on the task at hand. Straight to Hermione and then back to his room with a victorious treacle tart. Draco smiled at the thought, then nearly collided into someone.

"Hey, Draco," Harry greeted.

"Harry! Watch where you're going! You almost ruined my bouquet." Draco adjusted the flowers in his hand.

"Well, sorry, your Royal Highness," Harry smiled, crossing his arms as he studied Draco. "What formal party did I miss?"

"You didn't miss anything. Now, if you don't mind, I need to find Hermione."

"Ah, yes, to pop the question. And in the most Malfoy way possible – formal, serious, and good-looking!"

"Will you cut it out!" Draco shoved his cousin, though Harry laughed. "Have you asked Ginny yet?"

"Yeah, I asked her last night in the common room. She seemed pretty ecstatic. Then, Ron got the courage to ask a girl, too, so he asked Susan this morning."

"Great. At least you kept your end of the bargain."

"I would have anyway. Ginny's cool. And I'm glad I got an early start. Neville had wanted to ask Ginny because he really didn't know who else to ask. You better get upstairs – Hermione could be taken any second!"

"You make it sound like she'll be kidnapped. I've got this. What are you doing down here anyway?"

"Dad wants to discuss my grades so far – I guess my grade in History of Magic could be better."

"You're failing, aren't you?" Draco asked knowingly.

"Yep. I'll get it up before Christmas break, no worries."

Harry trekked on to his father's quarters, Draco shaking his head as he walked up the stairs. Now that he was back on track to finding Hermione, Draco took in a deep breath and fixed up his slowly wilting flowers with a fresher charm. That should hold them for a few hours. Draco quickly found his way to the library. He searched the tables and aisles of books for Hermione, remembering that she liked to sit in the back of the library since it was quieter. As he passed one row of books, he caught a glimpse of her bushy hair and smiled. However, before he could reveal himself, he heard another voice speak.

"Good afternoon, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor's voice rang.

Draco quickly leaned up against the bookshelf in the aisle he was in. His breath caught in his throat and he strained to hear the conversation.

"It's Hermione," Hermione said.

"Right. Vell, you see, I've been coming up here every day now, but I haven't been able to work up the courage until now to . . . talk to you."

"Okay."

Draco's heart sped up in his chest. He hoped Viktor wasn't planning on doing what he thought it sounded like. He grinded his teeth and his grip on the flowers tightened, crinkling some leaves and petals.

"You're a very beautiful lady," Viktor continued.

"Thank you, that's very sweet."

"And I think you deserve a special someone to take you to the dance."

Draco bit his lip, closing his eyes as he dropped his head against the books behind him. This just ruined his day. He was too late in asking Hermione. Why didn't he do it last night? Where did all this confidence come from today?

"Vould you go to the ball vith me, Hermy-own-ne?"

"I . . ."

"Damn it, it's Hermione!" Draco corrected, stepping out of the aisle. Viktor and Hermione turned surprised eyes Draco's way, but Draco threw down the bouquet of flowers as he snarled, "Get her name right!"

With that, Draco stormed away from them, rushing out of the library and into a secluded hall. He sat on a window sill, staring out at the autumn grounds of Hogwarts, watching as the wind blew through the trees and birds flew threw the air. He just stared out the window, willing his temper to cool. That damn Viktor ruined everything! This was all that stupid Quidditch player's fault. But it wasn't – it was his fault, too. He hadn't asked Hermione last night, and now it was too late. He was to blame for this. Draco punched the window in front of him, hearing the crack of glass and bone. He winced, clenching his jaws at the pain that erupted in his hand.

"For the price of pain, I certainly hope that made you feel better."

Draco jumped slightly, looking over his shoulder at Sam, in human form, standing by the windowsill. Draco sighed and looked back out the window.

"It didn't," Draco said honestly, looking at his hand. "It hurts."

"I'm sure," Sam sat on the edge of the windowsill.

"Why are you still a human?"

"Shifting back and forth between forms can be exhausting. Especially when I keep using other forms of magic." Sam closed his eyes and held up a hand. Draco knew he was performing mind magic, so stayed quiet to allow the fox to focus. A small, black container and a bandage wrap came flying through the air. Sam caught the items and opened his eyes.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Draco allowed the fox to rub a pain reliever mixed with minor cuts repair solution on his knuckles.

"Is this Uncle Sev's?"

"He made it for me," Sam answered. "For my many filed attempts at coming out of the Forbidden Forest unscathed when I hunt. There are some weird things in that forest. So, what did the window do that made you punch it? Did it insult you?"

"Ha ha, Sam. Nothing happened."

"I'm serious," Sam glanced up as he closed the container and picked up the bandage wrap. "Why take your anger out on the window? What are you really upset about?"

"Nothing . . ." Draco trailed off as Sam stopped what he was doing and gave him a pointed look. He sighed. "It's not that big of a deal. Viktor asked Hermione to the ball before I could, so I guess I'll just go alone. No big deal."

"No big deal, huh?" Sam commented as he finished wrapping Draco's hand up. "I recommend having Severus or Poppy look at this. They'll probably have a bone healer or whatever. Did Hermione say yes to Viktor."

"Probably."

"You didn't hear her say yes? Well, you're not out of the game, yet, Drakey."

"I told you not to call me that. And what do you mean – I'm a hundred percent sure she said yes to Viktor. Why wouldn't she? He asked her first."

"Just because he asked her first doesn't make her obligated to say yes. She has all the power to decline his offer. Just like she could have declined yours."

"Yeah, but she has no reason to decline Viktor Krum's."

"Of course, she does. She barely knows him. Or she could be waiting on someone else to ask her. And that someone may not be Viktor or you. You never know until you hear for yourself what her choice is. And besides, even if she did say yes, you could still get a dance in with her at the ball. I'm sure there are young ladies waiting to be asked to the ball in Slytherin still."

"Yeah, I guess."

"I originally came to find you to inform you that your Uncle would like to see you about your grades."

"I'm not failing anything!"

"I never said you were, just that he'd like to see you."

"Okay. I guess I should head down to his quarters. Thanks for my hand, by the way."

"Remember to get it looked at. Good luck, Drakey." Sam ruffled Draco's hair as he stood and walked down the hall.

"I said not to call me that!" Draco protested as he fixed up his hair, smoothing it back. He jumped off the window sill, still smoothing his hair back as he turned a corner, grumbling, "annoying, old, impudent fox –"

"Hi, Draco," Hermione said, pausing in front of him. She offered him a small smile, holding the bouquet of flowers he had thrown down earlier.

"Uh, err, hi," Draco wanted to slap himself for sounding so stupid.

"I have a feeling you wanted to ask me something," Hermione pressed.

"Err, yeah, but I think Viktor beat me to it."

"Beat you to what? You know, Viktor asked me to the ball earlier."

"I know, I saw, I was there . . ."

"I told him no."

"Wait, you what? Why?"

"Somebody already asked me."

"Someone else already asked you? Who?"

"Well, no one yet. But I'm hoping somebody else will ask me."

"Oh," Draco frowned, then his eyes widened as he realized what Hermione was waiting for. "Oh! Hermione, will you go to the ball with me?"

"I would love to," Hermione smiled. She stepped closer and placed a quick, gentle kiss on Draco's cheek, then walked past him, turning around to say, "Thanks for the flowers. Orchids are my favorite."

Draco was too stunned to move or even breathe for a few seconds before a wide grin spread across his face and he whooped in delight before quickly making his way down to Severus's quarters. He ran through the door, shouting, "She said yes! Hermione said yes!"

"Nice job, Draco!" Harry stood from the couch and high fived his cousin.

"I'll refrain from saying I told you so," Sam said from the dining table where he was sharpening a knife.

Draco frowned at the fox, and asked, "Wait, you were going the opposite way – how'd you get down here so fast?"

"I have my ways," Sam smiled.

"What's with all the yelling in here?" Severus asked, leaving his study.

"I asked Hermione to the dance," Draco informed his uncle, "and she said yes."

"Well done, Draco. Now, do you two boys know how to dance?"

* * *

Hope you like it so far.


	4. The Dance

Enjoy!

* * *

Draco couldn't help but stare at Hermione with a dropped jaw – she was stunning! She slowly walked down the stairs toward Draco, a nervous smile on her face. Her hair, which was usually bushy, was sleek and shiny, twisted up in an elegant knot. Her dress of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material simply complimented her natural beauty.

Realizing how stupid he must look, Draco forced his mouth shut and composed himself, brushing off his black velvet robes and standing tall, offering an arm to Hermione as she descended the last few steps.

"Err . . ." Draco looked off to the side. "You look . . . beautiful."

"Be honest," Hermione said through clenched teeth. She brushed her dress slightly. "Is it too much?"

Draco blinked at her. "No, of course not. You are perfect."

His confidence rushed back, and Draco led Hermione to their table, sitting with Ron and Susan, Harry and Ginny, and Neville and Luna. Draco pulled out Hermione's chair and pushed her in before taking his own seat, noting the other boys copying his actions. They engaged in light conversation while eating their dinners, everyone talking about a different subject. Once all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore waved his wand to move the tables and music began.

Ginny, who had been very quiet during the meal, smiled and pulled Harry out to the floor.

"I think we're supposed to dance," she said.

Hermione smiled as she watched Ginny and Harry start to dance. She looked at Draco.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Draco rose and offered his hand, Hermione following his lead. Together, they swept over the dance floor, on of Draco's hand's holding Hermione's, the other on her hip. The music was slow and classical, filling the room with beautiful song and vibrations. Hermione smiled at Draco, who smiled back.

As the night went on, Draco and Hermione found themselves tasting desserts at a corner table, music still playing.

"Try this, it's a fruit truffle," Draco said, holding out a spoonful of the dessert to Hermione, keeping a hand under the spoon.

Hermione opened her mouth and accepted the sweet and tarty treat.

"Mmm," she said, giggling when Draco used a napkin to dab her lips. "That's very good. Now, try this – it's a crème brulee. A very French dessert."

Hermione used a spoon to scoop up some of the dessert in question and offered it to Draco, who took it obediently. Draco hummed as he chewed, then nodded as he used his tongue to get pieces out of his teeth.

"A very sticky dessert," he decided.

"Maybe you should wash it down with this hot chocolate."

Hermione handed Draco a mug and picked one up herself.

"To us," they said, clinking the mugs and taking a long sip.

"And let's not forget," Hermione said, holding her cup out again, "to the games. No matter how barbaric they may seem."

Draco clinked his mug against hers and took another sip.

"They are tradition."

"Tradition or not, times are changing. No one wants their children competing in such games like these."

"Maybe not muggleborn parents, but pureblood parents see this as a great opportunity to show off their children. Besides, the competitors aren't exactly children anymore. They are of age."

"No one is of age until eighteen in the muggle world. Besides, seventeen is still child enough. No one is mature then."

"Wise words for the most mature Gryffindor."

"Well, almost no one is mature then."

The two laughed. Staring back out at the dance floor, they spotted Ron and Susan sitting on a windowsill chatting amiably, Neville and Luna were speaking to Fleur and Roger, and Harry and Ginny were nowhere to be seen. Draco frowned, swinging his head in different directions.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, nothing. It's just Harry and that Weasley girl – I don't see them."

"There's a lot of people here, I'm sure they are around."

"Do you see them? Hey, look!"

Draco pointed at the entrance of the Great Hall, where Sam was sitting in fox form staring at them. A sly smile grew on the fox when Sam noticed their staring. He stood and turned, motioning with his head for them to follow, his three tails brushing up against the door as he slipped away.

Draco looked at a smiling Hermione and they both quickly followed after the fox, leaving the Great Hall and running down the hall, keeping just the very tips of Sam's tails in sight. Several turns and stairways later, they found themselves on a balcony that oversaw the Quidditch Pitch lightly sprinkled with snow. Beyond that were mountains against a starry sky, shooting stars cascading down.

"Oh, how beautiful," Hermione smiled.

"Yeah, it is," Draco also smiled.

After a minute of watching the falling stars, Draco frowned and looked around. He was sure this was where Sam had led them, but the fox wasn't here.

"I think Sam wanted us to have some alone time," Hermione smiled, leaning against Draco. "I think we've been set up."

"Well," Draco smirked, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "I kind of like this. Just you and I, no loud music, nosy professors, annoying, stuck up champions. This is nice."

"Yes, it is," Hermione smiled up at Draco.

Draco felt warmth spread over his face. Slowly, Draco lowered his head, Hermione raising hers. Their eyes slowly began to close as their faces came closer, Draco's heart fluttering in his chest. He noticed Hermione's eyes flick up and she paused with a frown.

"Is that . . . mistletoe?"

Draco blinked and looked up. Tied to the overhang above them was indeed mistletoe. And laying on the overhand was Sam, his head rested on his paws, his three tails hanging over the side. Sam smirked at them.

 _: Oh, don't mind me,_ he said, _I was just leaving_.

Sam stood and jumped down to the balcony rail. One of his tails burst in flames and lit a nearby candle conveniently sitting on a ledge. Sam hopped off the rail and trotted away.

"Meddling fox," Draco muttered.

"Well," Hermione smiled, drawing Draco towards her with her shining eyes, "he did set the mood. I mean, we are standing under mistletoe. I think we should follow tradition, just this once."

Draco snorted, shaking his head at the mistletoe as he stepped close to Hermione. He brushed his hand over the side of Hermione's face, a shiver running down his spine as he lowered his head toward hers. Their lips met. Her mouth was warm against his, her caressing lips softer than he imagined.

Draco's hands moved to Hermione's hips as they pulled away, keeping her close. They allowed the silence to speak volumes as they leaned toward each other again.

A loud cat-call cut through the air, followed by "Go Draco!"

Draco and Hermione jumped and glared at Harry and Ginny. Ginny smiled softly while Harry had a big grin.

"Does this mean you guys are a thing, now?" Harry asked.

"Harry," Hermione chastised, giving him an annoyed look.

"You know how to ruin a good moment, don't you? Get out of here! Where are you coming from anyway?"

"Astronomy Tower. Ginny wanted to show me the comet shower that was happening tonight. And just so we're all clear, we didn't have any mistletoe hanging above us."

"Will you get out of here!" Draco demanded.

"I think you guys are a good pair. I mean, you have so much in common. The brains, the . . . well, that might be it. Wait, did Sam set this up? Where is he?"

"Go!" Draco and Hermione said simultaneously.

"Okay, okay," Harry said, Ginny pulling on his hand impatiently to lead him away. "I'm going. Ron won't believe this!"

Ginny managed to successfully pull Harry away. Draco sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Some of us just won't grow up," he commented.

Hermione laughed. "I'm sure he'll spread the news for us. At least to Ron. And maybe the twins. But he's a good friend. He knows when to shut up."

"I guess."

Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist, staring into the starry sky, Hermione resting her head against Draco's shoulder.

* * *

Well, there's the conclusion to this short. Sorry it came so late. As for my many other stories, I will be updating soon, I promise! Hang in there with me.


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